I view my clothes as extension of my personality. It’s how I communicate to the world without saying a word. So, I was shocked into silence when a superior at work informed me that some of my outfits did not fall into “proper work attire”. I was clueless to her meaning so I asked for clarification, “Do you mean here (pointing to my chest), or here (think stripper-esque tramp stamp location)? Without directly answering my question she said, “I think it’s mainly when you lean over and show people something on the computer…” I quickly shuffled into the bathroom and evaluated myself in the mirror from every angle. Ok. Maybe she did have a point…but just for the record, I am never falling out at work and I never ever gratuitously flaunt both my cleavages.

According to Elisabeth Squires, author of “Boobs: A Guide to Your Girls,” American breasts are getting bigger while shirts are getting smaller. A study goes on to tell us that it’s really the boys that judge the book by its cover! Bra fitters everywhere will tell you that E is the new C cup.

I wonder who blew the whistle on my über chic style…I work in an office where the ratio of women/men is 4:1. On my immediate team, there’s only two boys — both married. So….hi, call me the new office homewrecker.

I’ve always been good at compartamentalizing my life. Twelve years of private school taught me how to creatively express myself within the confines of a stifled uniform. So this past weekend, I bought myself a new uniform. How did I not learn about the power of pencil skirts until now?!? Because let me tell you, my tush has never looked better!